Three Names: By Any Other Name 3
by AZGirl
Summary: Apparently there are worse nicknames than Danno. Spoilers for 2.18 Lekio. Though part of a series revolving around nicknames, this is a stand-alone story.


**Title**: By Any Other Name 3: Three Names

**Summary**: Apparently there are worse nicknames than Danno.

**Disclaimer**: Hawaii Five-0 is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.

**Spoilers**: 2.18 Lekio; 2.15 Mai Ka Wa Kahiko

**A/N**: How could I resist writing this given all the names that James Caan's character called Steve and Danny?

BTW, there are very slight, blink and you miss it, mentions of the first two stories in this series. You don't have to read the other two to understand this one. Thanks to _ncismom_ for the beta!

**ooooooo**

"Book 'im, Muscles."

I had been getting out my handcuffs when I stopped mid-action at the words my partner had just uttered.

Whipping my head towards the direction the voice had come; I lock eyes with the menace and glare. More calmly than I thought possible, I say in a tone that any parent who had just caught their child doing something wrong would recognize, "Steven Jack McGarrett."

I had to turn away from my partner and finish cuffing our suspect in order for him not to see the smirk on my face after seeing his recognition of the tone and the significance of my using all three of his names. Oh yeah, the man _definitely_ knew he was in trouble.

"Danny, I—" Steve began with an interesting combination of expressions on his face, but I cut him off.

"Later," I say in a clipped, angry tone and complete the arrest of our previously fleeing criminal.

Steve's eyes widened and he looked down before giving me a nod of agreement. He turned away before I could fully register the expression that overtook his face.

ooooooo

The rest of the day was full of awkward silences between us.

During the car ride back to the shop, neither of us spoke to the other and the radio had remained switched off. Steve had been unusually attentive to the road and had obeyed every traffic law which almost drove me nuts despite my usual complaints about his driving. Did the idiot think his good behavior would make me forget what he'd said to me?

When we got back to headquarters, Steve went straight to his office without an explanation. That surprised me a bit, and the cousins gave me twin questioning looks, but I covered by saying that the two of us had already decided that Chin and I would be the ones to interrogate our lowlife suspect.

The only reason that made any kind of sense to me about the unusual behavior was the idea that Steve had chosen to put himself into what was the equivalent of a timeout for this latest bit of verbal diarrhea. Too many times in the last couple of weeks Steve has taken to calling me – mistakenly or not – all the old-fashioned, idiotic nicknames that Tony Archer had called us when the three of us had first met. To say that I was sick of it after the first time was a giant understatement, and now I think Steve has finally realized that fact as well.

We ordered lunch to be delivered in, and as the four of us ate, my partner barely participated in the conversation unless it directly pertained to our current case. I knew the others could tell something was up, but I pretended everything was normal – or at least as normal as Five-0's definition of the word; though I couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to Steve's near full-on retreat into himself.

By the end of the day, the strictly business conversations otherwise surrounded by silence made for a just slightly out-of-sync take down of our main bad guy. Luckily none of the good guys was badly injured beyond some scrapes caused by flying pieces of wooden shipping crates during the inevitable shoot-out. We handed the bad guy and his remaining henchmen over to HPD and went back to HQ to get started on the more urgent paperwork for a couple of hours.

Eventually Steve came out of his office, and as he passed our offices, he called out that we had done enough for the day and could take off. It was only when he continued to walk passed us and out the front door without stopping that I'd realized that we hadn't yet had a chance to 'discuss' his renewed obsession with giving me nicknames. I'm almost positive he knows that I'm fed up with this new series of names he's attached to me, but I still wanted to reiterate the fact that I wish he would simply stick to my preferred nickname of Danny.

Though, if I was honest with myself, I found that I didn't mind so much anymore that Steve called me Danno from time to time. The use of nicknames and code names were second nature to someone like Steve who had been associated with the military for so long now. But, with Steve, I knew the use of Danno was more than that – it was term of endearment, a way for him to remind me that we're 'ohana.

Since that mess with that bastard ex-partner of mine, Rick Peterson, what I can't is stand to be called 'D' anymore – a fact which Steve had inadvertently stumbled upon about four days after he'd helped me get Gracie back home safe. The name had been used casually – he'd been trying to catch my attention get me to take the beer he'd brought me – but I'd reacted poorly to the situation. I'd have to say though that 'poorly' is still a completely inadequate way to describe how I reacted.

I'd yelled at Steve and said things I shouldn't have, but regardless of all my hateful, hands-flailing everywhere ranting, my friend had just stood there and taken it. He'd borne the brunt of my breakdown about what had nearly happened to my daughter and about what Peterson had almost made me do to Stan. When I'd finally run out of steam and flopped back down on his couch exhausted but feeling oddly better than I had in days; my best friend had simply sat down next to me, handed me the beer, and patted my knee a couple of times before hitting 'play' on his DVR so we could resume watching the hockey game he'd recorded for me.

That, in essence, was a great example of just how good a friend Steve could be. He was loyal – sometimes to a fault – and always willing to be there for his friends; always willing to do anything for them. Other times though, my favorite SEAL would get it into his head to drive me to distraction with his attempts at being 'funny' such as his recent usage of all those nicknames. How could he think I'd even remotely want to go by the practically derogatory nickname of 'Hairdo'?

Granted I have called him a few not-so-nice nicknames in the time that I've known him, but he's never complained, and only once has he ever tried to call me on the practice. But, even then, he only ever mentioned my use of his given name, Steven, which is the nickname (if you can call it that) I seem to use most often, and not any of the others. I always kind of thought he liked it; liked hearing what new name I'd come up with next. Now I'm wondering if I've been wrong all this time. Was this his way of bringing my attention to something he considered to be a problem between us? Then again, Steve didn't usually go for subtle.

While I've been pondering the day's events, by some act of divine intervention, I made it to Steve's house without killing anyone due to my inattention to the roads and without ever planning to head this way. When I'd left headquarters, I'd planned on saving my rant about the new nicknames until tomorrow morning when we were supposed to ride into work together. Besides it seemed to me that Steve had done a good enough job of punishing himself today.

But, for some reason, I'd been drawn to come here instead of going home to my latest abode. I decided I might as well get the talk out of the way and got out of the car, and the second I started walking towards the house, I knew this was the place I needed to be at this moment. I had a feeling I knew exactly where my best friend was as well.

Just like I'd predicted, from the back door I see that Steve is down by the ocean. But, for once, he isn't sitting in the chairs by the water. Instead he's sitting in the sand with his arms resting on his bent knees staring out into the sea which was currently glittering with some of the last rays of the sun that are able to reach 'his' patch of ocean.

I know I'm taking my life into my own hands by approaching a highly trained SEAL who seems to be oblivious to his surroundings, but I find it's worth the risk to get to the bottom of Steve's odd behavior. I'm also not stupid, so I circle wide around to his left to approach him from the front. I want him to be able to see that's it's me first before sit. As I lower myself down into the sand next to him – close, but not too close – I bump elbows with him as I copy his posture in order to pull his attention away from the water. It's only because I'm looking right at him that I see his eyes shift and his head turn ever so slightly towards me that I know he knows I'm here. Otherwise I probably would've thought he was still intently concentrating on the view before him

For a while we just sit there letting the crashing of the waves upon the shore and the breeze rustling the various trees and bushes handle the conversation for us. I try not to let my friend's retreat into himself worry me. In a way, this whole situation seems kind of ironic. He's in trouble with me and yet I'm here trying to help sort out whatever is going on with him.

Eventually I get tired of the silence between us – there's been way too much of that today – and I'm about to ask him to stop with the newer nicknames, when Steve begins to speak. I'll probably never know whether he thought I was about to confront him about today and wanted to deflect the conversation or if he was just finally ready to break the silence.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I'll stop with Tony's nicknames. I didn't realize…" Steve trails off, but despite his bowed head I see his eyes flick towards me.

"Oh, you knew, Steven." I just barely catch a flinch from the man beside me. _Okay, weird. He's never done that before_. I continue on ignoring the reaction. "You _knew_ how much I hated it the first time Tony said them and yet you called me those friggin' names anyway! Didn't you get that I hated them after the first time when I yelled at you for five minutes?"

"More like ten," Steve grumbles.

"I heard that!" I say as I smack his bicep with the back of my hand. "Fine. Ten minutes. So why did you keep doing it?"

Steve doesn't answer for a long time. He shifts so that he's sitting cross-legged and his right hand begins to dig a small trench in the sand in front of him.

"Steve?" I say to prompt a response.

The SEAL's head jerks towards me and he sighs resignedly as if he knows I'll keep pressing for an answer – which, of course, I will.

"Except for a few moments here and there, things just haven't been the same between us since…I was arrested for murdering the Governor. I know this is going to sound stupid but—"

My partner stops mid-thought and rubs his left hand over his face before turning his head away from me. I move so that I'm sitting cross-legged too and thump my fist on his knee, "Come on, Steve… Use your words."

His head turns back towards me, but he doesn't look me in the eyes when he mumbles out something in a rush of words.

"I'm sorry… What was that?"

"I said – I miss the way things used to be between us."

I'm a little wrong-footed by his statement. I thought things were fine between us. I open my mouth to protest, but my friend looks at me and begins to earnestly list all the crap that's happened in the last months as he ticks them off on his fingers. "Jameson and all the stuff surrounding her death. Rachel and…" he pauses for a moment to give me an apologetic look before continuing. "The baby. Lori and Denning. Jenna and North Korea. Joe and Shelburne. Wo Fat… Finally, after all we've been through lately, we meet Tony Archer and suddenly it felt like old times again. I've missed us, and I just wanted to keep that going for a little while longer."

"Babe, those names were not the way. When I first met you, I never thought I'd say this, but you're my best friend and you're my ohana. I know things have been very difficult for us for a while now, but those two things have _not_ changed and will _never_ change." I lift my arm and drape it around his shoulders and give his neck a squeeze. "You understand?"

"Yeah," is the quiet response from beside me, and for the briefest moment I feel his weight shift towards me before he pulls away again.

I let my arm drop feeling like Steve still has a lot on his mind and with a grin on my face, I state, "If anyone should ask, I will vehemently deny I've ever said this, but I really don't mind you calling me 'Danno' anymore."

Steve smiles and says, "I know."

"See." I lift my eyes heavenward and raise my hands in frustration then flail one in my friend's direction. "This is why I hate you so much."

"No you don't," the SEAL says with confidence and nudges my knee with his.

I nod once and say, "You're right. I don't."

There is a return of my partner's usual smirk as he resumes gazing at the ever-changing sea. The sun is still up and will be for a while yet, but it's not shining on Steve's backyard anymore. In the fading light, I can tell my friend still has a weight he's carrying on his shoulders. In this instance, I know that Steve will not share whatever's going on in his mind and will let it keep eating at him unless I get him to open up about it. Why does it suddenly seem like I've taken on a task even Hercules would balk at?

I know he's been subdued since earlier in the day when I silenced him after he called me 'Muscles.' Maybe he was offended at my scolding him like a little kid when I did the 'three names' thing. It's as good a place to start as any….

"Steve?" I begin and after a second my partner turns towards me. "Are you mad at me for using all three of your names earlier to let you know I wasn't happy with you?"

"No," he says and begins filling in the trench he made in the sand a little while ago.

"Did you hate that I did that – scolded you like that?"

"Not exactly hate."

"Care to elaborate?" I ask spreading my hands as if pulling something apart.

"Not really. It's not important."

I smack him hard on the shoulder and then use the hand to help shift my body so I'm facing him.

"You idiot! What did I just get done saying earlier about family? It must be important if it's got you all tied up in knots and being more like the emotionally-stunted version of you that I haven't encountered since just after we'd met." A thought occurs to me and I believe I have an idea about what could be bothering Steve. An "oh" slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"Please, Steve, I want to help, but you have to let me in." I punctuate each of my last three words with by thumping his knee with my fist.

At first, I think my friend is not going to answer, that he's not going to let me help him, but then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders slump. He shifts to turn towards me, mirroring my position this time, and says, "The last time I heard my full name like that with that same tone you used this morning was almost twenty years ago. It took me by surprise and the memories flooded in about how much of a brat I was being that last day. She had to go out and I'd said something unkind about having to watch over Mary. My Mother said my full name like you did, said 'later' like you did, and left. It was the last time I ever heard her voice and the last time I ever saw her alive."

I'd had my suspicion about all this being related to one or both his parents, but I'd never expected to hear that. "God… Steve, I'm sorry."

"You didn't know," he said quickly, absolving me. "There was no way you could've known. I've never told anyone about this before today."

I'd feel honored, but my heart is breaking a little right now at the 'lost little boy' face my friend is currently sporting. "But—"

"No, Danno. We're good," he said in a tone that told me he didn't want to argue about this anymore. "My mind chose to go there, and it was my choice that I dwelled on that today; my choice that I let it get in the way of the job."

"But I bet your mind has been going to that last day a lot lately since the anniversary of her death is coming up."

I want to kick my own ass for saying that when I see Steve's eyes close and he says "yeah" in a strained voice before opening them again. My friend clears his throat and continues. "Every once in a while I wonder if she was still mad at me when she died."

I can practically feel the shame emanating from his every pore. "Steven, there is no reason to feel ashamed or guilty about the last words between you and your mom." I make a slashing move with my hand. "_No reason_ to think your mom was mad at you despite you acting like the teenager you were then. But one thing I do know…" I grab his forearm and give it a good shake to help get my point across. "I am absolutely, one hundred percent positive that she loved you. She was your mom. You should never, _ever_ doubt that, Babe. Okay?"

When Steve looks uncertain, I try again to get through to him. "She would never have wanted you to have carried this burden around all these years. You know that, don't you?" The uncertain look remains so I add, "If your mom was still alive, what would she say if she knew you still felt guilty about this?"

My friend turns his head towards the water and he gets a far off look on his face. Then, after a few moments, it's blown away by a blinding smile. He turns back towards me and says, "She would have, with laughter in her voice, called me an idiot and then hugged me."

"Well, at least your mom and I agree on something." At Steve's perplexed look, I let my expression reflect the obvious 'duh' moment, but then I say. "You idiot."

Steve's smiles again, not quite as blinding, and I decide to correct my previous statement. "Make that _two_ things we agree on," I say and then pull him into a hug.

As we pull apart, Steve whispers, "Thanks, Danno."

"Anytime, Steven." I reply before putting a hand on top of his shoulder and using it to help me stand.

I stretch out slightly cramped muscles and then reach out a hand towards Steve. He grasps it and uses it to help him stand.

"It's pretty much dark outside, Steve, and I'm starving." With a smirk, I start backing up towards the house, "How about dinner, McGruff?"

"Hey! I thought we agreed—"

"No, _you _said you'd stop using those names. _I_ never said anything like that, Magoo."

Steve tries to glare at me, but the lack of light and the fact that it never had much of an effect on me in the first place makes it worthless. Besides, the effect is completely ruined when he starts laughing.

"Fine," he holds his hands up in surrender and catches up to me. "I deserved that."

"Yes, you did," I agree whole-heartedly. "How 'bout I let you buy me a beer and we'll call it even?"

"Sounds like a plan, Brother."

As we step on to the lanai, I poke my finger towards him and say, "Now, _there's_ a nickname I definitely don't mind."

ooooooo

_The end._

**ooooooo**

**A/N:** This story went in about two other directions than I'd originally planned. Hopefully it was still enjoyable…

_**Thanks for reading!**_


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